Coachella easily ranks as one of the most amazing weekends of my life. Every renaissance man enjoys tasteful music. It was your stereotypical three day bender with minimal sleep and terrible 3am Del Taco missions that always seem to be a good idea at the time.
The performances were crazy! Here’s a snippet from everyone’s favourite white rapper.
Monday was absolutely brutal. Long day of public transit, random airport carpooling to Orange County Airport, long airport waits and finally a flight home.
I wrote a couple weeks ago about having lofty ambitions. A friend from work asked why I wouldn’t declare my goals to the world. My initial reaction was terror but then I realized that stating your desires ensures goal setting accountability.
I struggle with opening myself up to vulnerability. No doubt some will clown my aspirations as some of them are ridiculous. (what the hell is an aspiring renaissance man anyways?) I am starting to realize that these pessimists don’t matter. Negativity kills self-improvement.
The risk of putting your goals out there for the world to see is the ultimate motivator of action. Accountability is huge!
Publicly stating your goals ensures your held responsible for achieving them. What if you fail or slip-up? What if your goals change or things don’t go as planned? Failure is frightening, not to mention embarrassing. This is why I had not declared my goals to the world… yet.
Great response to 5Run this weekend. Despite my nightly activities, I managed to hammer out three amazing 5Runs: around UBC, the west end / sea wall and along the beach from tower to Kits and Granville Island. I only managed to get caught in one hail storm in the process.
My legs are absolutely killing me after going three days in a row; small price to pay for happiness. Each high-five gives me energy to keep running, even if my calves feel like they’re going to fall off.
A few failed fives to report. Not going to lie, they are discouraging, not to mention embarrassing if lots of people are watching (saw a couple of people point and giggle at me at kits beach on Sunday). Their loss.
Conversion rate on fives has got to be about 90% thus far. Who would have thought? The people who leave me hanging are usually staring straight at the ground the whole time. It is a shame because these are the ones who need it most!
The laughs, the smiles, the eye contact, the subtle acknowledgment of similarity make it the best feeling in the world. I can’t describe the feeling, you simply have to experience it. Go for a run, jog or walk, and high five one person. If you’re nervous, think from their perspective. How awesome would it be to have a random person smile and ask for a high-five while you are struggling? It is empowering. They will love it.
Nerves always creep in as I approach runners. I am an introvert at heart, I have silence that voice in my head all the time.
I came across a blog post yesterday that injected some serious happiness into my day. It literally gave me shivers as I read it. Check it out, a fellow runner (lets call her Jane) wrote about some random dude she high-fived on Kits beach. Wonder who it was? Awesome.
Sunday I woke up extremely hung-over. I have a strange relationship with such a state: I always feel that I need to have a productive day following a pizza infused late night endeavor. Sunday, I decided to get going with a long run.
Jogging at one pace has to be up there with the most boring things I’ve ever done. Does anyone actually enjoy it if it’s not sunny and no music? I would love to know what is going through the minds of marathon runners…. Are they having fun running?
It didn’t take long for boredom to set in Sunday as I made my way to the beach. I noticed everyone I ran by was frowning or looked angry. I couldn’t figure it out. It was gorgeous out and they were running along Spanish banks.
What’s the deal? I made it my mission to turn a few frowns into smiles; maybe inflict a little joy into the Sunday run. I started to smile at every jogger I ran past…
A few smiled back, some avoided eye contact, most looked at be dumbfounded with that sympathy gaze as though they were humoring someone’s awkward joke.